“Hello, Merlin!”
Merlin jerked his head up. Devin smiled, pretentiously friendly, as always, when preening for an audience. The knight, dressed completely in black, stood next to the king, who was seated at his usual place, centered near the front of the platform. Although he rested comfortably on his newly installed throne, his eyes stared straight ahead. They seemed glazed . . . distant . . . as if his mind wandered elsewhere.
The loyal knights Lancelot, Gawain, and the others stood at floor level facing the king, each one dressed in typical finery, though most of them flinched and shifted, as though aching to scratch themselves.
Two women huddled close on a two-person bench next to Arthur’s throne, both draped in black and seated with their hands folded on their knees.
Merlin eyed the taller of the two beautiful, with flawless raven locks that meandered down her back, and sharp, angular facial features framing piercing eyes that promised an equally sharp mind. When her eyes locked with his, a cold chill penetrated his heart.
He bowed to the king, then to the two ladies, before finally acknowledging Devin. “Have you brought two new witnesses for the prosecution?”
“Merlin,” Arthur chided, “your manners are sorely lacking.” He gestured toward the women. “They are sisters of mine Morgan and Elaine, by my mother and her first husband.”
Merlin gave them the slightest of bows. “Clearly they are not quite as dead as you had heard.”
“No. They were ”
“Merlin,” Morgan interrupted, rising in front of her bench, “obviously my dear brother hasn’t had the opportunity to inform you of our rescue from the dragons. Even though my mother, Lady Igraine, gave us up as lost, Sir Devin never abandoned the search. With God as his guide, he found us in Makaidos’s cave when he killed the beast and his demon witch daughter.”
Merlin raised his brow. “It’s odd that Sir Devin neither escorted you home nor informed us of your rescue when Clefspeare and I found him and Palin near the cave.”
A hint of sarcasm spiced Morgan’s tone. “For your information, Sir Devin and Palin acquired horses for their journey, and as soon as they rescued us, they, in their most chivalrous manner, beseeched us to ride to Camelot while they walked home with the king.” She gestured toward Devin. “Regarding the honorable knight’s lack of boasting, such humility is in keeping with his unimpeachable character.”
Merlin glanced at Devin, catching a brief smirk on his face. “Oh, I see. I’m not surprised. I expected Devin to cook up a scheme to gather all the dragons into his murderous net, and this one has a foul recipe, indeed.”
Arthur shot to his feet. “Merlin! Are you accusing my sister of lying?”
Morgan sat down, her nose uplifted. “How rude!”
“Your sister?” Merlin pointed at Morgan. “I am accusing
this
woman of lying, whoever she might be.”
Sir Devin gripped the hilt of his sword. “Your Majesty! Allow me to silence this reviler forever.”
Merlin withdrew Excalibur and held it high. It blazed with brilliant white light. “Whom do you trust, King Arthur?” He waved his arm at the three dressed in black. “This foul beast of a knight who tickles your ears with songs of praise? These two dark women who suddenly appear on the eve of a council of war against dragons with an amazing tale of rescue from ‘evil’ dragons?” He took a step closer to the king and allowed the sword’s radiance to pass across his face. “Or do you trust a prophet of God, who tells you the unmixed truth, who awakens your conscience and undresses your soul, who has guided your steps from the very first one you took until this present day of sorrows?”
Morgan scowled. “A prophet of God?” she asked, her voice laced with venom. “Did you not disguise Uther as my father so he could deceive and take advantage of my mother?”
Merlin swung toward Morgan, letting the blade’s glow sweep across her body. A slight flinch wrinkled her face, but she quickly recovered. He lowered the sword and rested the flat on Morgan’s shoulder. She recoiled, her brow furrowing, and her cheeks paled.
“Now I finally know who hatched that lie about me.” Merlin turned his head toward the knights and nobles gathered before the king. “Morgan’s father, Gorlois, perished mysteriously, and Arthur’s father, Uther, always denied her mother’s accusation that he arranged Gorlois’s death. Yet, Uther loved Igraine and took her as his wife, begetting our future king, a child born of love, not of deception.” He raised the sword and arced it toward Elaine. The petite woman glared at him, unflinching. “I have heard stories of nymphean deceivers and their seed-collecting ways,” he said. “For how many centuries have you two been planning this wicked scheme?”
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. “Have you gone completely mad? I command you to withdraw!”
Merlin backed away and resheathed the sword, but he kept his gaze firmly fixed on Morgan. “As you wish, Sire.”
Devin thrust his finger toward Merlin. “Your Majesty, I object to this vile accuser’s profane impeachment of your sisters’ honor. In his mad, misguided attempt to save his demonic allies, he has chosen to slander your family! In order to clear his own name, he has indicted your mother as a liar!” He swept his arm toward Morgan and Elaine. “This insane prophet has turned a celebration of your lost sisters’ joyous return into a shameful display of self-exoneration and embarrassing insults against the virtue and reputations of these impeccable ladies. I insist that he be censured and removed from this council!”
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, his face blistering red. “I am persuaded to heed Sir Devin’s counsel. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Merlin kept his voice calm and quiet. “Remember that I speak from times gone by, before you ever breathed the air of the kingdom you now rule and before Sir Devin breathed his first lie. Before you ever saw scale or claw of your first dragon, I rested in the crook of Clefspeare’s leg, in the very shadow of his fiery snout. In the cold night air of his drafty cave, I slept unmolested under the cover of his gentle wing. Take heed to what you are about to do. The way of death is irreversible. Do what you must to the bloodthirsty followers of Goliath, but leave those faithful to the teachings of Makaidos alone.”
The king sat down and took a deep breath, stroking his chin while gazing at the floor. Merlin eyed Morgan closely and caught her giving an almost imperceptible nod to Devin. Devin winked at the entry guard, who quietly opened the door.
Palin burst into the room, red-faced. “Clefspeare,” he said, panting, “has killed Andrew . . . the horse merchant. He burned him like straw . . . in front of witnesses!”
Arthur jerked his head up. “Clefspeare? Are you certain?”
Palin nodded, still breathless. “Witnesses, Sire. We have witnesses.”
Merlin set his hands on his hips and sighed. “Well done, Sir Devin. I should be ashamed of myself for not predicting that you would sink to such depths.”
Arthur pointed at the exit, his voice shaking. “Merlin, I ask you to leave on your own accord. I honor you too well to have you escorted under armed guard.”
Merlin bowed. “As you wish, Sire.” He walked slowly toward the door, trying to catch Morgan’s eye, but she averted her gaze. Near the exit, he stopped and raised a finger. “There is one request I wish to make, Your Majesty. May I have an audience with Morgan? It is obvious that I have offended her, so I wish to converse with her privately to ensure that our relationship is” he rolled his eyes upward, searching for the right phrase “mutually understood.”
“Granted!” Arthur said. “I’m sure my sisters would both like to repair this unfortunate first impression.”
Morgan finally looked Merlin’s way. Her eyes flashed red. Merlin nodded at her and, without turning back again, walked out the door.
Sapphira jumped from the final ladder rung and gazed at the many pairs of eyes staring at her. The girls seemed winded after the long climb down the museum’s bookshelves, and their somber expressions mirrored those on the twelve statues surrounding the tree. Sapphira caressed the face of one of the darker-skinned girls. It was no wonder they were tired. The portal from the dragons’ dimension had led to Morgan’s scary island, and the eerie howling of a dog had set them all on edge. It didn’t take long, however, for Sapphira to find the portal near the apple tree that led back to the museum.
Elam smacked a heavy scroll against a shelf. “No sign of Morgan anywhere. She’s probably in her castle or in the true upper realms.”
“The true upper realms?” Acacia asked.
Elam jerked his thumb upward. “The dimension where I come from, the land of the living. I guess since I was her prisoner, Morgan didn’t mind telling me what’s going on. You see, she’s really dead . . . well . . . sort of dead, so she has to stay in what she calls the circles of seven, a place my father called Sheol. We’re underneath one of the circles, but we still can’t go from here to there without some kind of portal, because there’s no tunnel all the way to the top.”
Acacia looked up in wonder. “Then can we block her from coming back somehow?”
Elam pointed the scroll at Sapphira. “You’re the portal maker. What do you think?”
Sapphira tapped a finger on her chin. “I suppose if we could somehow move the portal she uses, she couldn’t get in here. At least then we’d be safe.”
Paili shivered. “Not with Mardon and giants here!”
“She’s right,” Elam said. “We would still have to deal with them.”
“I’d rather face a hundred giants than one Morgan.” With the others following, Sapphira exited the tower’s museum and crept toward the shining blue column, perhaps the only remaining portal Morgan could use to enter the lower realms. “Morgan can find portals when she’s down here, because most of them are lit up, but they’re not visible up above. I can just sort of feel them when I’m up there.”
“Then how does Morgan find them?” Elam asked.
“I think she just remembers where she appears in the land above.” Sapphira gazed at the swirling blue light. “Morgan comes here through this portal, so if I move the spot where it comes out up above, she won’t be able to get here, because she probably doesn’t know about the portal on her island that leads to the top of the museum.” Sapphira touched the edge of the column of light, making it sparkle at the tip of her finger. “But it’s pretty risky, because I’m not sure where this one leads, and I don’t know if I can create a firestorm big enough to move it. I watched the dragons make one, and that was more fire than I’ve ever seen in my life!”
“A firestorm?” Acacia took Sapphira’s hand. “If we’re both oracles of fire, maybe you can teach me how to make fire, and we can try to do it together.”
Sapphira let out a long sigh. “Anything to keep Morgan away from these girls.” She squeezed Acacia’s hand and pulled her toward the column. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
“We’ll wait here.” Elam picked up another scroll and clacked them together. “I can probably take on Mardon, but the giants are a different story. I learned that from fighting Nabal for my dinner.”
Sapphira and Acacia stepped into the portal together and hugged each other close. Sapphira raised a hand and reached for a fistful of blue light, catching it like a rope and pulling down. In a blinding flash, the museum chamber crumbled away, and, seconds later, a million pieces of multicolored light flew together and bonded seamlessly into a new mosaic, a dim sky framing the dark turrets of Morgan’s castle. An orange hue on one side signaled the breaking of dawn.
Sapphira set a hand on her hip and whispered, “I thought we might come out in the land of the living where the tower fell, but this is pretty close to the portal we used to go home just a little while ago. I guess this one really did move from Shinar, like Morgan guessed.”
“How did the firestorm move the portal here?” Acacia whispered back.
“I don’t know. The dragons moved it to the tower from another place first, but Morgan told me that everything shifted around after that, so I guess it moved again.” Sapphira nodded toward the swamp behind them. “She keeps snakes back there and a big dog inside the castle, so we have to be extra quiet.”
Acacia pointed at a nearby apple tree. “She probably recognizes the portal site by landmarks like this tree, so we have to move it to a place where she would never find it.”
“Right, but if an entire first floor of a tower can sink into a new portal, we’ll probably take some stuff with us, too. We don’t want to do it where she’s likely to miss something that gets swept up in the storm.”
“Good point,” Acacia said. “We can’t leave any evidence.”
“But where could we possibly go?”
Acacia turned toward the swamp. “Are you afraid of snakes?”
“Well, take away the fact that some can squeeze you to death and swallow you whole, and the fact that some can inject venom that will eat your flesh or shrivel you into a prune . . . no, not really.”
“Same here.” Acacia tiptoed into the swamp.
Sapphira tugged on the back of Acacia’s dress. “I was kidding. We can’t go in there.” The sun’s dawning rays illuminated the dark water. A mere two arm lengths away, a long, slender body broke the surface, its scales reflecting the sunlight. It quickly disappeared again, and the water stilled.
Acacia backed up a step. “Do you have a better place? Somewhere Morgan won’t notice?”
“No, but even if we don’t get eaten, do you want to take a bunch of swamp water and deadly snakes down where the other girls are?”
“What are you afraid of? We can make fire, can’t we? We can burn them to a crisp.”
Sapphira pointed at herself. “I can make fire, but I haven’t taught you how yet.”
A dog barked in the distance, then howled loud and long.
“You’d better start teaching me. That dog’s bound to alert someone.”
Sapphira picked up two sticks at the base of the apple tree and handed one to Acacia. “You just kind of think fire onto the wood, but you also have to speak to it to make it happen.” Sapphira stared at her stick and said, “Ignite!” A small flame immediately erupted on the end.
Furrowing her brow, Acacia focused her eyes on her stick and whispered through tight lips, “Ignite!” Nothing happened.
The dog howled again, this time louder.